


Wind Off the Water

by oh_demoted_short_one, those_painted_wings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hogwarts Fourth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_demoted_short_one/pseuds/oh_demoted_short_one, https://archiveofourown.org/users/those_painted_wings/pseuds/those_painted_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the best of friends have fights, sometimes spectacular ones. Picking up the pieces afterward is hard. Harry gets some advice on the matter from an unexpected source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind Off the Water

Harry huffed, stamping his feet in an attempt to keep them warm. It was cold today, the sky overcast and threatening to release its burden of rain, but Harry didn't go inside. Inside, there would always be someone to ambush him with questions, or concern, or outright scorn, whereas outside, in this secluded courtyard, people seldom came and he could brood in peace. Of course, he would've gone to the astronomy tower, with the warmth charm cast on it so that classes could continue through winter, but Ron and Hermione had taken to studying there. So Harry found himself here, and only refused to cast a warming charm of his own because there was something grimly satisfying about the wind today. Besides, Hedwig was put off somewhat when he used them,

It was all very appropriate, he thought with bitter amusement. Maybe Snape was right, he was the center of the universe – the sky was overcast as if in respect to his own gloom. He made a faint noise of disgust at the thought, a gust of icy wind sweeping the sound away the moment it was made. Snape couldn't have been more wrong about him. He hated his fame, but so what if he wished some one cared enough to stand by him? Was he not worth love other than that of a mother and father absent from everything except a backwards mirror and nightmares brought on by shrouded monsters?

Harry was perfectly... well, not happy, but resigned, to sink further into a mire of self-pity, when he was rudely interrupted by exactly the type of people he had been trying to avoid. A wave of warmth settled over his skinny frame, sending a shiver through him as two identical bodies leaned against his sides and into his line of vision, arms crossed over his shoulders.

“Out in the snow alone, Harry?” Fred said from the right, his brother continuing not a moment later from the left.  
“Can't have our young hero brooding and catching his death before the Tournament has a chance at him.”

“Oh, bugger off,” grumbled Harry, in no mood to be polite.

Both redheads gasped as if affronted, despite the smiles playing on their lips. George waggled a finger at Harry and Fred admonished, “Such a mouth on the little fourth year!"  
"You'd think,” George interjected smoothly “- that we'd attacked you or something! Now why is that, Harry?”

Realizing with no small degree of despair that there would be no getting rid of them, Harry twisted out from under their arms and faced them head-on. “I've had just about enough of the Tournament and everyone else! Honestly, it's all they think about, can't get any peace!”

The Twins didn't seem at all surprised by his outburst. “That's it, Harry,” said George with a gentleness that instantly had Harry on his guard, “why don't you tell us all about it?”

The grins they generally wore were gone, and in their place were softer smiles. Harry watched them with a suspicious frown, snapping out finally, “What are you on about?”

Fred sighed heavily, “We know that you're really stressed by all of this; we believe you didn't put your name in the Goblet. Usually you'd have talked to Ron about all of this...”  
“But our dear brother is being rather a royal git about things, and Hermione has no idea what to do,” they shook their heads with a small simultaneous laugh, “-for once.”

Fred picked up the main thread of the conversation after a short pause. “So we thought we'd come and help you out. If you need someone to talk to,”  
“or someone to attack,”  
“or just someone to stand beside you for an hour or so,”  
“we're always happy to provide,” they bounced the offer between them in that disconcerting way they had.

Harry stared at them for a long moment before turning away without a word, starting on a trek that would eventually circuit entirely around the castle. The Twins followed unprotestingly, exchanging glances back and forth over his head. He did his best to ignore them, but they made it difficult when the glances turned to pokes and then to shoves, pushing one another from one side of the path to the other like young children.

Eventually reaching his patience's limit, Harry let out a growl and shoved them both forward, barking annoyedly, “Would you stop that already! You wanna help me and expect pushing me around is going to do that?”

The Twins seemed prepared to just stand there and take it, but as Harry opened his mouth to chew them out further, he caught a glimpse of two figures ahead, who had just appeared from behind a buttress of the castle. It was Ron and Hermione, the former coaxing the clearly reluctant latter towards the quidditch pitch where a Slytherin practice was currently in session. He stared at them, mouth still open, wishing to know what they were doing, to be involved in the fun of hustling Hermione along or fending Ron off. Seeing them so close made him all the more upset and frustrated. Forgetting completely about the Twins, Harry turned and stalked off, making a beeline for the Lake. He had to get away before he did something rash and most likely embarassing. Behind him, the Twins still trailed after.

Upon reaching the Lake, Harry began lobbing any and all rocks he found out into the water, eventually ending up nearly shin deep in the frigid liquid. He was blind to the angry tears forming, or rather chose to ignore them, but he could not ignore the hands grasping him around the upper arms to draw him back onto the relatively dry shore. He fought to pull away, but the grips were firm, though not unmerciful, allowing him to twist but not escape. Soon he was out of angry energy, and pulled back close to two warm bodies, another warming charm working to chase off the cold from the wind on his wet trouser legs. Before he realized that he was speaking, words were pouring from him and Harry let them go.

“All my life I've tried to get someone to care. You saw second year, what they're like, and I thought Ron was going to always support me! He did then! What've I done to make him so angry? Why do I even bother anymore?” The words spilled forth and his heavy breaths were swallowed up by the whipping wind in the aftermath of his outburst.

“We're not going to excuse Ron's behaviour,” came the Twin's reply.  
“- he still has a lot of growing up to do -”  
“as does Hermione, but obviously so do you.”  
“Not that that's a problem; most people take about, oh...”  
“twenty-so years to finally stop being idiotic little children, but we've noticed that your year has more trouble than most,” Fred finished.

They continued to draw him away from the lake, and Harry allowed himself to be guided, finally settling him on a stone bench about twenty yards from the water.

“Most people think that, as twins, we never fight.”  
“Hah! No, we bicker as much as any other siblings, but we learned a long time ago how to make up again.”  
“Mostly because being angry at one another hurt, but pain is a good teacher, right?”  
“So it was that in our second year we had a fight like none before or since.”

Harry nodded, calming down gradually, looking out over the water in an attempt to ignore his still chilled toes. Neither Twin said anything more for a few minutes, and Harry hazarded a glance at them. They were looking at him, smiling a little as if remembering something, and their eyes were uncharacteristically serious. Each nodded to him in turn, and after another moment continued speaking.

“George wanted – wants to open a trick shop.”  
“Fred thinks we need more time to develop and earn money now while we can."  
“And George was always talking about it! He never shut up! Eventually, it came down to us simply avoiding each other.”  
“You wouldn't have noticed – the little firsties never know if someone is acting funny, cause they've got no frame of reference,”  
“- but we had all the other years watching us like hawks, but ready to bolt like rabbits at the first sign of a prank.”  
“In all actuality, though, we were having our first serious argument.” Here, tired of all the sincerity, Fred collapsed against his brother's shoulder, sobbing in mock hysteria, “George, my love! I'm so sorry for abandoning you!”

“Get off!” snarled George, shoving his brother off him. Fred almost hit the ground before recovering and bouncing back up. George continued, ignoring his now sulking brother. “What we're trying to tell you, Harry, is that even people no one thinks would ever fight, like twins, do fight. But we got over it, and we made up, and helped each other feel better. We hurt one another, but we're always there, and we both still care, just like Ron still cares about you.”

Fred nodded sagely, now stroking a nonexistent beard in a motion that contrasted sharply with the serious tone of his next words. “You're not alone, Harry, because none of us would let that happen to you again, especially Ron. Did you know that you were his first friend?”  
“Lots of kids at our house, but we're all siblings. It's a different,”  
“very different,”  
“dynamic.”

Harry blinked at them, resembling Hedwig as he tried to comprehend the advice and perspective the Twins had given him in their unique way. “So... what you're saying is...” he stumbled over his tongue, “Ron'll get over it and all I need to do is wait?”

“Since he's the one in the wrong, yep,” agreed Fred.

“Oh, and, this: we'll be here for you while you do,” added George, then clapped a hand on his brother's back, reaching over Harry's shoulders to do so, simultaneously bumping him as well. “Now, gents, I believe we should go down to the kitchens for some hot cocoa or my toes are going to freeze off.”

Harry nodded an eager yes, the two other boys chuckling at the rushed bob of his head. They made their way back to the castle, and Harry felt lighter than he had all week.

“By the way,” he asked, recalling an earlier point in their little discussion, “what kind of agreement did you come to? You know, over the trick shop?”

“Oh, that,” said George dismissively. “Ultimately, it didn't matter. Fred was right – we've got no money anyway. Besides, the longer we spend in school, the longer we have a willing test group that we don't even have to pay!”

Fred laughed happily. “So, you know, even if somehow we just end up with a thousand galleons, we'd probably stay just to get a few OWLs, you know?”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry easily, and tickled the pear to enter the kitchens.

A week later, Harry was following Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest on the word of a strange message from Hermione that seemed to have originated with Ron, about five words-of-mouth ago. Harry didn't much care; Ron would have to come to him.


End file.
